Deirdre Reilly: Toys in the attic

Friday

Jun 27, 2008 at 12:01 AMJun 27, 2008 at 4:44 PM

Now that summer is in full swing, many of you may have chosen to go on vacation – Disney, Boca Raton, Spacecamp even. If this is the way you want to spend your time, just “hanging out” and “relaxing,” that’s up to you. But I, and literally dozens of other Americans, will be doing exactly what our forefathers did when they had no budget and little time off: cleaning the attic.

Deirdre Reilly

Now that summer is in full swing, many of you may have chosen to go on vacation – Disney, Boca Raton, Spacecamp even. If this is the way you want to spend your time, just “hanging out” and “relaxing,” (which are really just nothing more than societal buzz phrases) that’s up to you. But I, and literally dozens of other Americans, will be doing exactly what our forefathers did when they had no budget and little time off: cleaning the attic.
I ventured into our dusty old attic this past week, and immediately, within the first 10 minutes, lost 20 pounds. (Heat rises). I came down for the first of many bottled waters and stared at myself in the mirror in amazement; I looked like an Olympic athlete – suddenly toned and sweaty, hair slicked back attractively. “Where the heck have you been?” my 19-year-old mumbled on his way to the bathroom; he celebrates the summer by sleeping until noon, then eating slowly while reading the paper. (Ah, youth.) I flexed now-thin arm at him, secretly admiring my muscle. “Attic,” I said, as a mouse popped out of my sneaker and scampered away. He nodded and went back to bed.
Our attic is interesting, kind of like a personal museum existing solely to show off our family’s journey. For one thing, up in the attic we learn that my husband at one time wore parachute pants, back when M.C. Hammer and Lisa Lisa and the entire Cult Jam wore them. He had one pair that was striped like a tiger’s hide; I fondly remembered him burping babies wearing those, looking more ready to break-dance at the club than to assist a baby with gas issues. Also, I found several golf shirts that had zippers at the neck. I thought back and remembered that for a time, during the mid-’80s, you weren’t dressed if you didn’t have at least two zippers on your clothes. “What, no zippers? Where’d you get that, K-Mart?” your friends would snicker. I laughed at the memory, then felt sleepy from the heat, so I just ripped the shoulder pads out of a few of my ’80s blouses and used them as pillows and took a little nap. I was also glad to note that if there was some sort of fire in the attic, I could just string together some of the thousands of huge costume-jewelry necklaces I wore in the ’80s and hang them out the window and climb down them. If it was the actual ’80s and my attic caught fire, I could have just jumped out the window and made sure to land on my head; my interesting “girl-mullet” held in place by gallons of Aqua Net would have bounced me right back onto my feet.
I also spent a few happy hours looking at old photos and reading my old journals and diaries. My husband came up, taking a break from his home office, and he found me crying and wiping my nose on an old quilt and saying reflectively, “Those were such dark, dark days.” My husband, unsure what to say, decided to go with, “Do we have anything here to eat for lunch, or should I just have more cereal?”
I am also amazed, after looking at the sheer number of old children’s books I have, that my kids aren’t resident geniuses at Ivy League institutions all over this land. I must have had 2 million children’s books; we must have read every waking minute. I also found a vast amount of Happy Meals toys; I have to say many of them were still in decent shape. Like their milkshakes, McDonald’s toys never get old.
I also found various dusty VHS tapes (“Top Gun,” “Uncle Buck”), old knick-knacks that knick-knacked themselves right upstairs when I got tired of looking at them, an entire Aerosmith album collection, 800 wire hangars and sweaters that I can only describe as ludicrous. (A sweater with a Christmas tree with real lights? Clothes that require batteries? How did I not electrocute myself and/or others?)
I emerged the victor, with boxes and bags to be distributed to Goodwill and Salvation Army. I’m almost afraid they’ll send some of it back as rejected!
You can connect with Deirdre at www.exhaustedrapunzel.com.

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